


of the stern agony and shroud

by bereft_of_frogs



Series: the dead reign there alone [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: (some) Canonical Character Death, Action, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Magic, Family Drama, Fantastic Racism, Gen, Necromancy, Politics, Queen Hela, Thor: Ragnarok (2017), sibling angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-12-24 14:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21101144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bereft_of_frogs/pseuds/bereft_of_frogs
Summary: Hela’s conquest takes a little longer. Thor and Loki set aside their own conflict to prevent her rise, but quickly find themselves hopelessly outmatched.Or: the Goddess of Death has returned to take up her crown.





	1. homecoming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reywrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reywrite/gifts).

> Written for the 2019 Marvel Big Bang, (absolutely gorgeous, creepy) art by @reywrite [can be found here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21163055)
> 
> Also big, big thanks to [@loxxlay](https://loxxxlay.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing! 
> 
> Title from ["Thanatopsis"](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/50465/thanatopsis) by William Cullen Bryant.
> 
> [Additional Warnings: fantastic racism, discussion of miscarriage, curses, sacrifice, dead bodies, strangulation, death. (There is one specific scene in the second chapter that covers all of these things - rest is canon-typical violence)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin has passed away. 
> 
> His sons fight in the aftermath - until they are interrupted. 
> 
> Hela has returned to claim her throne.

“How could you, _how could you do this?”_ Thor roars in Loki’s face. He pins Loki to the dirt, shaking him. He looks up at him with real fear in his eyes. His nose gushes blood, dripping over his pale face. One arm is bent at an odd angle, his shoulder is out of joint. Thor has a knife sticking out of his side, and a stinging burn across his cheek and neck from conjured fire. The ribs down one side feel cracked and the pain spikes with each heaving, furious breath.

“Brother, please,” Loki chokes. “I’m sor-”

“No, no, you don’t just get to say you’re _sorry_, like this is something I could ever forgive you for!”

“I didn’t kill him, you heard him, he broke the spells himself, he _stayed_-” Loki’s voice grows increasingly hysterical in his attempt to pierce Thor’s rage. Thor slams his head back against the ground, silencing him.

“You betray me, time and time again, I warned you, I _warned_ you, when I let you out of your cell-”

“Thor, _please_-”

“Isn’t this fascinating?” Both brothers freeze. “Touching. If there wasn’t so much blood I’d wonder if Asgard had finally embraced the ways of the Vanir.” Thor looks to his right just as the portal closes, green light swirling back into the absolute blackness. The woman who stepped from it can be none other than the murderous sister his father had revealed in his final moments. Hela.

It seems they have bigger problems than the unending conflict between them. Thunder rolls in the distance. Hela just smiles. “Are you going to do it?” she asks. “Kill him? By all means, go ahead, don’t let me stop you.” Thor glances down at Loki, a sickening guilt suddenly settling in his stomach like a lead weight. His grip slackens.

He lets go of Loki and rises, turning to face Hela. Loki after a moment, follows him shakily to his feet.

“You must be Hela.”

“So you _have_ heard of me. What a pleasant surprise, I would have thought Father would have ignored my existence entirely.”

“Well,” Loki says. He wipes at the blood on his face. “We did learn about you just five minutes ago.”

“I am Thor, son of Odin, and if you-”

She titters. “You don’t look like him.” Thor gapes at her, not knowing what to say.

“Perhaps we can come to some kind of arrangement,” Loki says carefully. He stands tall, chin held high as he faces their sister. Through his fury, Thor wonders at how calm and collected Loki appears, merely puzzled by the intrusion of Odin’s first child, though he is covered in blood from his broken nose.

She smiles, slow and wicked. “Now you…you sound like him. Enough of this. Kneel before your queen.”

“I beg your pardon?” Loki sounds astonished at the request.

Thor’s head is still spinning. Rage and the fight are still hot in his blood, clouding his judgment. 

“I said, kneel.”

“No,” Thor growls. “We will not kneel to you.” The storm builds around Mjolnir, crackling in the air. With a burst of lightning he casts it at his sister-

She catches it. In a burst of light it shatters, sending shards flying over the grass. They have to throw up their arms to protect their faces. The building storm sputters and dies, clouds dissipating.

And Hela smiles.

In the ensuing fight, Thor seems to set aside his murderous intent towards his younger brother in favor of that towards his elder sister, Loki thinks dryly to himself as his brother’s hand closes around his arm and tugs him out of the way of another conjured blade. They fall back, taking advantage of a disturbed piece of rock to hide and catch their breaths.

“We cannot keep this up,” Loki gasps. “It’s been an hour, the sun is setting, Thor-”

“We cannot let her get away. Let her loose on Earth, or Asgard, is that your plan, Loki?”

“We will be no help to Asgard if she slays us on this godforsaken rock-”

“Come out, come out, dear brothers!”

“If we have the opportunity, we should flee.”

Thor still looks stubbornly furious. “I will not let her-”

There is a sudden burst of black magic, and the rocks they had been standing on collapse, sending the cliffside careening towards the sea. Loki barely manages to get a hand around Thor’s wrist and teleports them back to solid ground. It is an inelegant spell and they tumble gracelessly out of it onto the grass to the sound of Hela’s laughter.

Loki quickly disentangles himself from Thor’s limbs, and stumbles to his feet. He lunges towards Hela, advancing on her while conjuring a knife to his hand. He leaves an illusion in place and slides in underneath Hela’s blade. She swings it at the neck of the illusion, and Loki takes advantage of the opening to drive his dagger into her unprotected stomach.

She gives a cry of rage and whirls on him. He dances out of reach, flipping the knife in his hand and makes to stab it into her back. But she kicks out at his knee just before the strike, sending him off balance. He nearly regains his footing, but then she snaps her fingers and an odd jolt travels through him.

His heart seizes, skips a beat, and he barely manages to skate away.

It was enough of a distraction though, for Thor to get behind her, wielding one of her own discarded blades. Loki drops to one knee, chest heaving, and tries to catch his breath. He watches as Thor parries her strikes and attacks.

Thor has never been a master of swordsmanship. He has too long had his brute strength to rely on, strength and the storm, so his sword-wielding is clumsy and brutish compared to Hela’s precise skill. It’s efficient for a time, but she manages to knock him back. Thor takes a blow to the head, a blade glances off his shoulder and he falls back and does not rise. Hela raises her sword over his body-

Loki manages to shake off the lingering effects of Hela’s strange spell and rushes forward, blocking Hela’s blade with both his knives just before she strikes the killing blow. The sound of the blades clashing rings in his ears.

“You really are a little gnat, aren’t you?” Hela snarls.

Loki grins. “I am quite hard to get rid of.”

He changes tactics. Skill and strength are not going to serve them well in this fight. He has only one thing left, one thing that might buy them a little bit of time. He leaves an illusion in place and falls back.

In the circle of his hands, a beam of energy grows. He sends it towards Hela just as the illusion dissolves and she realizes he’s gone. She takes it in the chest with a cry and it drives her away from Thor. So does the second. The third she manages to block with a black shield.

It turns into a witch’s battle. They face off across the field, no longer reliant on blades, but on pure power. Odin’s death has left traces and Loki manages to gather up enough of them to hold his own for a while, but he is quickly weakening. After such a long time languishing behind the glamour of Odin, he is not prepared for this level of spellcraft.

A moment of distraction and Hela tackles him, almost to the edge of the cliff.

“Wait a moment, little brother,” she gasps breathlessly. “You feel so strange.” She pins his wrists down and her black magic is cold as it spreads over his skin.

“Well for one,” he says. “I’m not your brother.”

With a last burst of magic, he throws her off, wrapping her in an enchantment and casting her into the sea. It won’t hold her for long, very likely not nearly long enough, but with Loki’s seidr flickering and fading, it is all he can think to do. Thor is still unconscious, unmoving when Loki falls to his knees beside him, but he’s breathing.

Loki can feel that foolish mortal sorcerer’s magic pulling at them, much as it had on the street in New York. Then, it had caught him by surprise, one more shock in a long day of them that he had not been prepared for. This time, he purposefully does not block it. Instead, he lets the golden, sparkling magic rise up around them. He focuses his last dregs of magic on binding himself to Thor. Then he throws his arms across his brother’s unconscious body and lets them fall into the sorcerer’s dark portal.

It’s the last bit of magic he has left in him. With that horrid, sickening feeling of gravity pulling him down and the wind rushing in his ears (_did you ever think you’d escape the Void, you fool, you’ve never left_), he cannot remain conscious for long. He faints long before they hit the floor of the sorcerer’s Sanctum.

\- - - - - - -

Thor wakes, his whole body a single, solid ache. His shoulder stings and his head throbs. He blinks open his eyes and instantly recognizes the dark, cluttered room of Strange’s odd sanctuary. He’s lying on his side on a couch, alone. There is no sign of the sorcerer himself. At least, not right away.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Strange blinks into existence beside him. “Good. I stitched you up as best I could, but was hoping you didn’t have too serious a head injury. I used to be a very good neurosurgeon, probably the best in the world, but wasn’t sure how much I’d be able to do with your physiology.”

Thor ignores Strange. He sits up, putting a hand to his aching head. “What happened? How did I get here?” He has the odd sense that he’s missing something, but the pain in head and dull ache in his ribcage take up the whole of his concentration for the moment.

“I was hoping you would be able to answer that. Did you find your father?”

“Yes.” A twinge of pain. “Yes. He’s…he’s gone.”

“Dead?” Strange sounds somewhat alarmed.

“Yes, he died. Faded away.” Drifted across the ocean as sparks of light, to find his fate in the beyond. Leaving Thor to deal with what was left behind.

“And you fought with Loki?” Crushed Loki’s head against the dirt, ready to bash his head in with Mjolnir, Mjolnir which is now gone, shattered. Shattered by-

“Yes. We fought. But-”

“He did this to you?”

“No, it was…” He shakes his head. The memories come back to him rapidly now, along with a sudden fear. What he’s missing becomes clear.

They had fought desperately with Hela, hopelessly overpowered by her brutality. He had been knocked unconscious. The last clear image he has before the darkness was the green of Loki’s coat, blurring across his vision as he covered Thor from Hela’s advance. Hela’s predatory smile as she stalked towards him and Loki lunged- “Loki. Where is he? How did I get back here? _Strange!”_ The thought of Loki, abandoned to Hela’s clutches, fills him with furious terror.

“Calm down, we have him safely contained.”

“Contained!? Where is he?” Thor roars.

“Easy!” Strange tries to placate him.

“What have you done with him? What about Hela?”

“Hela?”

“Our sister, Hela. She did not follow? She did not harm him?”

“There was no one else when you fell through the portal. He’s fine. And we weren’t going to turn him in without talking to you first-”

“Take me to him now.” Strange sighs and reaches out a hand. “No, no, we will _walk_. Do _not_ touch me.”

“Fine. Right this way, your majesty.” With Strange leads him through the halls of his odd mansion. “Forgive me for my confusion. You have to admit, none of this makes any sense. I’m a little confused. It seemed like you two were having a pretty violent fight before you landed here.”

“It wasn’t him,” Thor says. “Well, it was, at first, but most of the damage was done by our sister.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“I did not either,” Thor mutters to himself. Strange lets him into a room and he cries out. “Loki!” Loki kneels in the center, eyes open and staring. He shows no sign of having heard Thor, still bears traces of the wounds received during the two fights with his older siblings. His face is still smeared with blood, dried now. His clothes are torn and singed and he looks very pale.

Thor falls to his knees in front of Loki, grasps his arms. He still does not stir. “What have you done?” he growls at Strange.

“A simple enchantment. He sees, hears, feels nothing. Incredibly effective at containment.”

Thor stares at him in horror. “Release him from the spell. _Now_.”

“Fine!” Strange makes a gesture with his hands and Loki gasps, falling forward towards Thor. He heaves in panicked breaths, grasping onto Thor as his eyes focus.

“Thor?” he gasps. “Brother, I was…it was dark. I…”

Thor steadies him. “You’re alright now.”

“You’re safe, you’re fine?” Loki’s grip tightens. “She didn’t follow us? I sent her into the sea, she’ll escape the spell quickly enough, I’m sure, but we’re away?”

“Yes, I’ve seen no sign of her.”

Loki’s brow furrows in confusion. “Then what kind of spellcraft…” His eyes slide past Thor and to Strange. His expression twists with fury and Thor barely has time to catch him before he lunges at Strange, trembling with rage. “You! You did this to me! How _dare_ you, how _dare you!”_ Loki fights against Thor’s grip, snarling.

“Brother, _stop!”_

“No! That cursed, _cheat_ sorcerer, do you know what he did to me? I’ll tear him to pieces, I’ll rip out his heart and-”

“Loki!”

Strange steps back into a defensive stance. “Loki, if you do not cease, I will have no choice-”

“You will do _nothing!”_ Loki’s green seidr swirls, untamed with anger, around himself and Thor. “You will not _touch_ me! I will _eviscerate_ you!”

“Loki, _enough!”_ Thor roars.

Loki rounds on him now. “Why do you take his side over mine, why do you _always_ take their side?”

“Loki! You must admit, the sorcerer has the right to defend himself.”

“He took my sight and my hearing and my sense of touch and left me here, to wake up like _this_.” Loki’s fingers dig into his forearms. “A senseless husk, and you _still_ take his side-”

“Wait. Wake up? He did he do this to you while you were unconscious?”

“I did not remain conscious as we fell through the portal. I woke up in soundless darkness, so you tell me.”

“I felt that it was best for everyone’s safety to take care of things _before_ he regained consciousness.”

“Disgusting, _vile_, wretched-” Thor drags Loki back as he spits insults and fury in the direction of the human sorcerer. He turns him, to place the bulk of his body between his brother and Strange.

“Thor, if you cannot calm him down, I will have no choice.”

“You will not touch him. Leave us.” 

Strange huffs again. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I am tasked with protecting-”

Loki lunges for him again. “How _dare_ you! Act like you’re some sort of sorcerer-”

“You are a risk in need of containment, I did what I had to do.”

Once, Thor might have agreed. He wouldn’t have hesitated to bind Loki, lock him away for everyone’s protection. But Loki had saved his life twice against Hela, even after Thor had been ready to murder him. The image of Loki looking up with him, begging for his life and trying to calm his rage, turns Thor’s stomach. He sees the vicious look on Hela’s face as she smiled at them across the field.

Thor’s father is dead. His mother is dead. He had been ready to murder his brother, who he thought dead. The sister he had not known existed had tried to kill them. His head is spinning. He must retreat.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Strange,” Thor says. He wraps his arms around Loki’s middle, pulling him away. He vibrates with rage, but with Strange outside his direct field of vision, he does not make to attack again. “But I think we have to be going.”

“Going? You can’t leave.”

“Oh, but we are,” Thor smiles, a strained, polite smile. “We have some business to attend to of our own. It does not involve you. In fact, I think you might hinder our progress. I’ll have someone keep you informed.”

“I’m sorry, Thor, but I can’t let you walk out of here. He is a threat to this planet, which I am sworn to protect.”

“_Hela_ is a threat to this planet,” Thor says. “The longer she is allowed to stay here, the more destruction she will cause. If she manages to find a way back to Asgard, her power will only grow and it will be all nine realms and more that are in danger!”

“I cannot allow you to leave,” Strange says firmly. He bristles with irritation. Thor releases his grip on Loki, who has quieted somewhat, and turns back to Strange. “You will remain here, you and I will work on a plan to defeat Hela, and Loki will not be allowed to leave this-”

“I don’t think so,” Thor says. Strange, with a frustrated look on his face, makes a gesture with his hands. The hair on Thor’s arms raise and he holds out a hand for his hammer before remembering that it is gone. Strange sends a shimmering golden mass towards them, but before Thor can come up with an alternative, Loki moves, shoving him aside, and a burst of green light cuts through the golden cloud, dispersing it in a breath. Loki twists his hands, says something Thor cannot understand under his breath, and the odd sentient cloak that Strange wears suddenly wraps itself around him and sends him flying backwards.

“Thor, you fool, stop _gawking_ and go!” They run past Strange, struggling against the fabric, to the door. It takes a moment to find the central stairs, but then they are sprinting down it. The front door doesn’t open to Thor’s hand, but Loki puts a fingertip to the center, green light spiraling out from his touch, and the door gives way.

They emerge into the bright New York day. Thor blinks against the sudden light, but has only a moment to process being outside before Loki’s hand closes on his arm and they are thrust into darkness again, reality twisting before spitting them out in a dim alley some miles away.

The pair of them collapse to the dirty pavement, panting. When they are not followed, Thor settles against the wall of the alley, catching his breath. After a moment, Loki sits beside him.

“What did you do to him?”

Loki waves him off. “Nothing. Just reversed the enchantment on that cloak of his. It won’t hold for long, but it was effective.” He lets his head loll back against the brick wall, closing his eyes.

“Are you alright?”

“What do you care? Half these injuries are your doing.”

Thor winces. “I am sorry. I was-”

“Enraged.” Loki opens his eyes but does not look at Thor. Instead, he looks away, towards the mouth of the alley. “I understand. We should move. Strange can obviously track us, we can’t stay still for long.” Loki gets to his feet, though one of his legs doesn’t seem to quite fully hold his weight. He leans on the other, one hand on the wall.

Thor follows him up. “We should find somewhere to rest. Recover.”

“Recover?” Loki scoffs. “For what? So we may face Hela again?” Loki turns on him. “That first battle was not enough for you? Face it, we have lost.”

“I’m not going to leave her to wreak havoc on Earth. And what if she finds her way back to Asgard?”

“Then she’ll be unstoppable. More so than she already is; at least we cannot stop her. We’d need allies - perhaps your dear Avenger friends. I’m sure they’d be happy to see me, they’d help you finish off what you started in Norway-”

Thor slams him back against the wall. “Stop it, stop provoking me, Loki.” Loki’s hands instinctively come up to defend himself, wrapping around Thor’s fists where they grip his shirt. He has a flash of their argument on the way to Svartalfheim - that brief flame of fury fueled by grief, Loki’s look of shock as Thor nearly strikes him. Thor drops his brother’s shirt, stepping back and running a hand over his face. “Let’s not fight. We can’t.”

Loki stays leaning against the way. “Yes, it seems as though we’ve got a common enemy again. You put aside your anger at me in the service of revenge on that creature that killed mother, it seems like you must do so again to fight against our sister.”

“Would you stop _talking_ about that? Loki, that was one of the worst days of my life, how dare you speak of it like-”

“Well, it’s not like I was having a damned _picnic_ that day.”

“No, you were just plotting to trick me again. To use my grief to escape your cell, _usurp the throne_-”

“Trick you. Ha. You speak of me being callous, but you’re the one who left me behind. You practically handed me the throne, once I woke up and realized what had happened. And gotten over the sting of _your_ betrayal, of course.”

“_My_ betrayal?”

“Yes, Thor,” Loki snaps, pushing off from the wall. “Your betrayal. I trusted you. You came to my cell and offered me revenge and I took your olive branch without care for my own life, true, but I never thought you’d be so cruel as to leave me for dead, wounded and defenseless, on that wretched planet-”

“Wounded?!”

“-I was a prisoner, I had _nothing_, no help, no reinforcements, no protections, nothing except you. And you left me to die!”

“Loki. It wasn’t a trick then - you were truly stabbed by the Kursed?” Thor grips his shoulders, now gentle. “I meant what I told you when we arrived on Earth - I thought you dead. I _mourned_ you, I was _destroyed_ by your death.”

Loki’s gaze searches his face, looking for the lie. “You are a fool. I was not dead.”

“I thought you had died in my arms, Loki. Don’t you _understand?_”

Loki’s eyes are sparkling and his voice is thick when he speaks next. “I know I have spent the last few centuries calling you a witless oaf, but I did not truly believe you would be so stupid as to fail to check for a pulse before leaving my body on that _wasteland_-”

“Loki, I did,” Thor is nearly in tears himself. “I did check for a pulse, of course I did. Jane too. There was nothing, _nothing_, to indicate you still lived.” His breath hitches. “I would never have left you if I thought you were still alive. ” A tear tracks down to the tip of Loki’s nose.

“I looked for you. When I awoke. My chest…I was in pain and I was so cold, but I was wrapped in your cape, so I thought…” His breath hitches, his expression twists in anger. “I thought you would not be far but you were just gone.”

“We had to leave,” Thor grasps his neck and forces their gazes together. “There was a great storm brewing and we would have been in danger had we stayed. Jane had to convince me that carrying your body would only slow us down. So I wrapped you in my cape and kissed your forehead one last time and promised to return. But then Father told me a body had been found by guards. So I didn’t go back. I vowed to never go back.” Thor pets back his hair. “I thought Father was being…_mad_, and stubborn, and heartless when he refused to have a funeral. When he refused to speak of what had become of your body. But that was you, wasn’t it?”

Loki nods. “It was me. At the time, I thought holding my own funeral might have been a bit overdramatic.” He pushes away, turning his back on Thor. “I was still expecting Odin to break my spells and show up to continue our fight. Or for you to see through my illusion.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I was so angry with Father. But I was angry with you as well. Because you…you were not there. I thought that…” He swallows. “I thought once that I could count on you to protect me. I know now that I cannot. So, furious, I returned to Asgard and fought with Odin and banished him and waited for him to return, our fight to resume. He did not, and you did not either.” Thor’s eyes and throat burn. He draws Loki into his arms, though Loki does not embrace him back.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. For all of it.”

“It was not your fault. I should not have been so foolish as to…so childish as to…”

“No. You’re right. I should have protected you. I should have been there.”

Tentatively, Loki wraps his arms loosely around Thor’s waist. It’s hesitant, but it’s a step forward.

“I’m not going to let you go now. We face Hela together.” Loki nods against his shoulder. A raindrop falls on Thor’s head and another. A cool rainstorm picks up, sending soothing drops of rain falling down on them. Thor releases Loki. “Come. We need to find shelter.”

They end up breaking into a warehouse, squirreling away in an abandoned upper floor. Loki spares a little magic to set up a couple of defensive spells. They will warn them long before an intruder gets too close. They have no blankets or bedding but are exhausted enough to drop off to sleep on the floor.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Thor starts awake from a dream of being forced to crown Hela and kneel at her feet to the sound of rain hitting the metal roof. Loki is curled on his side, sleeping soundly. For a while, Thor doesn’t try to go back to sleep. He just listens to the rain on the roof and thunder rumbling in the distance.

He feels unmoored, morosely bereft without Mjolnir. Where once he would have taken the opportunity to revel in the storm - without Mjolnir to conjure his powers, he feels cut off from the electric energy of the storm. Hela had shattered it with barely a thought. Destroying his weapon, his source of power, without making a dent in her own. She had gone on to beat them into the dirt, would have killed them if she had the chance.

He feels a surge of bitter anger at his father for leaving him this mess, followed by hollow grief.

Everything had seemed to just fall apart in recent years.

Thunder rolls and Thor turns closer to his brother.

\- - - - - - -

Hela breaks through the last of the enchantments and drags herself onto the beach, muttering curses at the ones who had put her there. Her _dearest_ younger brothers, Odin’s new family, complete with his new golden heir. Hela hadn’t seen Thor since he was a toddler and he clearly has no memory of her. Of _course_.

And the perilous little Jotun. There he was, still in the form of a proper Asgardian, wielding _Asgardian_ magic no less. No. She tastes the lingering power on the broken bonds. Vanir magic. Frigga. She should have known the witch would have taken the pet under her wing, teaching him magic. _Fools_. It was disgusting.

But interesting. Struggling against her bonds, beneath the sea, she had realized what was so odd about the Jotun masquerading as an Asgardian. He tasted of death. His magic was tainted with it.

She smiles. “That could work.”

Then she wrings the last of the seawater from her hair and goes to find a boat.

She rows, long into the night, fueled by fixed determination. She finally reaches the place, the opening in the skies. Tasting the power, she can tell it has been left disused, probably for centuries.

With the northern sea wind biting at her and the waves rocking her stolen rowboat, Hela stands and opens her arms to the night sky. Her journey north had taken some hours but she used it to whisper the spells, an old chant to the spirits of the sea and stars.

“I am Hela Odinsdottir,” She says to the shimmering light in the sky. “You have the truth of my name, and my blood. I stand before you humbled. And I request passage home and sanctuary in Asgard.”

The stars ripple before her as she finishes the spell.

In Asgard, to the shock of those standing on the observatory, the bifrost opens.

\- - - - - - -

Thor wakes with Loki’s hand on his shoulder, shaking him.

“We’ve slept long enough - too long. We have to go,” Loki says.

“Your alarms?”

“Nothing yet, but Strange can’t be far on our tails. And Hela will surely have broken my spells by now. We have to move.”

Thor rises, shaking out his cape. “Where should we go?”

“I have no idea. But we cannot stay here.”

“We should go back to Asgard. I do not wish to leave it for long. They must be warned,” Thor says. “I don’t think we should use the bifrost to return to Asgard. But perhaps she will not be able to follow us down the shadowpaths?”

“I know not - but there’s a risk she’s already found them and is making her way back to Asgard.”

“All the more reason to return quickly, bring warning.” Thor says as he shrugs on his cape. Loki doesn’t respond. “Loki...”

“And walk into a trap?”

“Do you suggest we abandon Asgard?”

Loki picks at a bit of wood on the windowsill. “That is not what I’m suggesting. But I fear rushing in without thought.”

“You fear her? Hela?”

“Did you miss her beating us like we were untrained children?” Loki snaps.

“Yes, but we had just been fighting each other. We were weakened, next time-”

“Next time, she’ll do it again! Your arrogance will get us both killed, as I’ve long predicted.”

“Oh, as you’ve predicted, before you stole the throne. The _first_ time!”

“The throne was mine! Your actions were your own, you nearly got us all killed on Jotunheim if you recall. Father-” Loki sighs, pressing his fingers to his temples. “This isn’t helpful.”

“You’re right,” Thor says quietly. “This is no time to be fighting each other.”

“To answer your question, yes. Yes, I do fear her, Thor. Even Odin must have feared her, if he locked her away like that. But I do not want to abandon Asgard any more than you. We take the shadowpaths.”

“Good,” Thor says. “And you don’t have to fear her, Loki. We can do this. We can defeat her.”

Loki merely frowns and turns away.

Thor and Loki have to make their way to a secret portal, deep within the mountains north of the city. Loki is trying to conserve magic but spares some to transport them to the base of the mountain. They still have to climb some, though they are unprepared and quickly become overheated and snappish. But finally, Loki’s magic leads them to a portal in the rock and they slip sideways through reality.

They find themselves in gray, stifling darkness. It is thankfully different enough from the sucking blackness of the Void that Loki can keep his composure. He is privately glad that he has to keep a grounding hand on Thor’s wrist to keep them together in the darkness.

“I’ve always hated these,” Thor mutters, sounding haunted. “You cannot produce a light for us?”

“No. The shadows would smother any light I produce. And I need all the magic I can spare to keep us on the right path.”

Thor grumbles beside him. They walk in silence, the shadows growing. Loki feels apprehension in his chest, dread growing. Dread, at what they will find in Asgard. Dread, of Hela and what she will do to them. The shadowpath suddenly feels oppressive, tense. The magic chokes him. Something brushes past his ear. He squeezes Thor’s arm and stops.

“Loki?”

“Nothing,” He says, after a moment, when nothing materializes out of the darkness. “It’s nothing. This way.” His magic lights their way, towards Asgard.

After a while of walking in the darkness, Loki’s magic connects with a deeper power source. A familiar power.

“Finally,” He says to himself.

The path spits them out at the side of the river. The day is clear and bright; Asgard is quiet, the birds chirping, a light breeze rustling the leaves in the trees.

“At least it’s not entirely on fire.”

“That does not mean she is not here.” Loki takes stock of their position. “It’s a half-mile to the city gates. Or we can take the secret entrances, the tunnels in the hills.”

Thor considers this for a moment, looking at the city. “The tunnels. I don’t want rumors to spread of our return, even if she has not yet followed us.”

“Good,” Loki says. “You’re finally thinking strategically.” Thor rolls his eyes at him in return.

They hike into the forest, heading towards the passages that would lead them into the heart of the palace. There, they could regroup, rearm, and figure out where Hela was and what her next move will be.

They don’t quite make it. Halfway there, they’re both startled by a form barreling out of the trees towards them.

“Thor, thank the gods, you’re back!” Loki lowers his knife when he realizes their ambusher is Fandral. “And - _Loki?_ What in the Hels, you’re _alive?”_

“Yes, yes, Loki’s alive, he’s here, never mind that,” Thor says impatiently. “Have you-”

Fandral keeps staring at Loki like he’s seen a ghost. “Never mind that? How-”

“That’s not important now, we’ve got a bigger problem.”

“Quite literally,” Loki says.

“I believe I know to what you’re referring,” Fandral says. “Hela, yes?”

Loki goes cold. “So she is here?”

He nods. “She appeared in the bifrost - triggered it herself, from the other side. We’ve no idea how.”

Thor looks horrified. “Triggered the bifrost?”

“Triggered the bifrost, stepped through. Volstagg…Volstagg was guarding the bridge. She killed him without thought. She stormed through the city, cutting through our forces like a hot knife through butter. Nothing we did touched her, we had to finally retreat. Thor, she has taken the palace.”

“Volstagg’s dead?” Thor chokes. He has to brace himself against a tree. There’s a pit of lead in Loki’s stomach. As much as they’d had their conflicts in recent decades, the death of one of their number opens a yawning gulf of shock and disbelief within him.

Fandral nods, grave. “Volstagg’s dead. Along with at least full column of warriors - well, they’re sort of…half alive again.”

“What?” Thor asks sharply.

“She’s the goddess of death, Thor,” Loki says. “I’m assuming raising the dead as her thralls is well within her power.”

“Is that who she is? The goddess of death? What does that even mean?”

Thor looks sharply at Fandral. “She hasn’t said?”

“She’s told us nothing, other than that she was Hela and the throne was hers by right. She said the king was dead.”

Thor nods. “Yes. Father is dead. Hela is…Hela is his firstborn daughter. She’d been imprisoned in Hel, his death set her free.”

“Firstborn…your _sister?”_ Thor nods. Fandral glances at Loki, looking flabbergasted. Loki nods as well to confirm.

“And now she is set on taking control of Asgard.”

“She’s well on her way. Her power…we had to retreat to the mountains. Most of the army, many civilian refugees. Heimdall led us there, he has been waiting for your return. I was sent out on a scouting mission after he saw that she was moving, it is a coincidence I ran into you-”

“Do you know where she is now?” Thor asks.

“Yes. She’s by the pond at the mouth of the river, just at the base of the mountains.”

“And?” Loki asks.

“It seemed like she was looking for something. Hunting through the bushes.”

“There’s an entrance to the lower vaults down there. I found it a few centuries ago,” Loki paces. “Perhaps she was cut off from the vaults and is looking for a way in?”

“Hm.” Thor rubs his beard. “She does not know we’ve returned yet. We could catch her by surprise before she accesses-”

“Are you mad?” Loki cries. “Absolute fool, you wish to meet her in open combat a second time? She nearly killed us the first, we can’t face her openly again. I cannot keep having this argument, Thor-”

“But now we’re at full strength and have the element of surprise. We could attack before she-”

“Your highness, she already has the upper hand. We are without reinforcements, she has enthralled her army of the dead, she holds the palace…”

“We should retreat,” Loki insists. “We can’t face her in open combat, but if we whittle away at her defenses, sabotage her-”

Thor just grunts, still looking uncertain. Stubborn.

“Thor, I know that the subversive plots are not your way, but Loki’s right,” Fandral says. “We should retreat to Heimdall’s sanctuary and regroup.”

“There’s no time. Every moment she stays in the palace her power grows even stronger. You heard it yourself, Loki, Father said that once she was on Asgard, her magic would grow. If she gains access to the vaults…”

“Yes, brother, but-”

“There’s no telling what she’ll do. What weapons she will find there. And when her power grows, her hold over Asgard will as well. If we hope to stop her, we must do so now.”

“…you make a valid point,” Loki reluctantly admits.

Thor grips his shoulder. “Trust me.” There’s a part of him that wants to spit back why? Why should he, when Thor’s schemes only ever seem to cost him his life? His chest aches, throbbing where the great scar continues to mar his sternum despite all his vain efforts at healing. But Thor’s point also stands - if she is able to get into the vault, there are any number of powerful things she could wield against them. So Loki nods. Agrees. And steels himself against their inevitable defeat. Thor squeezes his shoulder again.

Fandral looks uncertain still, but nods. “Well then, what is the plan of attack, my prince?”

\- - - - - - -

Hela is still at the pond, using her magic to examine the face of the rock. She pauses.

And has to whirl around as Thor slashes a sword at her back. She just barely manages to block his blade.

“Looking for something, sister?”

“Found it, actually.” She conjures a second blade and strikes. They dance together, blades clashing. Thor leads her away from the wall, towards the forest.

Loki watches carefully, in the form of a hawk circling above them. He follows as Thor retreats further into the woods.

At the point they had planned, he lets out a piercing caw and strips the illusion off of Fandral. He attacks with a cry, drawing her focus. Against two, fighting at the same time, she’s fighting a little slower. There’s a frustrated, furious, expression on her face.

Loki dives, transforming as he lands. He lashes out with his magic, using it to wrap around her. He half-smiles, as she drops her swords-

But she looks suspiciously pleased as well. Her hands now free, she reaches up to touch the ropes of seidr wound around her. A shock passes between their magic. Suddenly the air around him turns icy cold. He can’t breathe. His vision tunnels and a dark, painful jolt sends his muscles into spasm. His magic breaks and he falls to his knees, his heart stuttering, skipping beats. He clutches his chest, gasping. The pain in his chest is crushing, his heart struggling to beat on. There’s a weight on his limbs, dragging him down, dragging him into death-

Panicked, he looks up to Hela, only to see her once again engaged with his brother and Fandral. He tries to get to his feet, tries to draw upon his magic, but comes up only with a sickening emptiness. He looks back to the fight just in time to watch as Hela gets around Fandral’s defenses and drives her sword through his gut.

Thor cries and strikes out at her, getting her off of Fandral, who falls to the ground. The fury of his first assault allows him to hit, slashing along her side. The momentary distraction is enough to lessen the pull on him. But Thor faces her alone now and she recovers quickly. He keeps close to Fandral, covering him.

Blood flows out over the dirt. Fandral quickly loses consciousness. His breath sounds wet and strained. Thor strikes back at Hela trying to push towards Loki, but Hela makes

With his heart still stuttering, his breath barely coming, Loki manages to gather just a little bit of seidr and repeats his trap. Still on his knees, he wraps the corded power around Hela and yanks her back.

“Thor, take him, and _go!”_ He croaks. The spell is already flickering. _“Go!” _I can take care of myself." He cries and coughs. But focuses a moment more and his binding on Hela strengthens. She lets out a cry of rage.

Thor shakes his head, but turns and grabs Fandral’s limp body, slinging it over his shoulder, and swiftly retreats into the woods. Loki releases the binding spell on Hela, uses the magic to send Thor and Fandral as far as he can into the brush. Then he drops to his hands and knees, panting and coughing. Just a moment more, and maybe he can gather enough power to follow - but the pain gets worse, and his magic slips through his fingers.

_Now you’re going to die again_, he thinks dully to himself. _Perfect._ The pressure in his chest screws tighter and it feels like he is being slowly crushed. Like there is a crushing weight sitting on his ribs. The feeling is bleeding from his limbs. He is ice cold, fading, and darkness clouds his vision. Hela’s boots appear in his line of sight. Blood drips slowly from her wounded side onto the dirt.

“You know, it took me a while to figure out what was so strange about you. Luckily I had plenty of time trapped under your spell to think.” She bends down, caressing his head. “You’ve touched death, little monster. It’s inside you now.” Suddenly Loki can breathe again. The weight on his chest lifts, leaving him shaking and chilled, as in the wake of a fever, head spinning with the sudden influx of oxygen to his brain. He gasps for air.

Hela conjures a knotted link of black cord. “Hands behind your back or I’ll do it again and let you languish there on the edge of death for a while more.”

Loki, dizzy and giddily grateful that she has lifted her spell, wordlessly allows her to bind his wrists and drag him to his feet. She holds a knife to his throat, running it over his skin. He doesn’t even flinch, too lost in the relief of being able to breathe, of being out of pain, to care.

“So I am to be your hostage, then?” He asks breathily.

She touches his hair. “Of course. The first prisoner of my new reign. Take it as an honor, little monster.”

Thor, still unsteady from Loki’s rash transportation spell, has to drop Fandral a ways into the brush, to try and slow the bleeding. His heart is pounding and he desperately wants to return for his brother, but he cannot let up pressure on Fandral’s wound. Thor looks back. He can hear Hela calling for him, can just barely glimpse her through the trees. Now that Fandral is safe in the brush, he can turn back and-

Blood bubbles up under Thor’s hand, gurgling in Fandral’s throat. His heartbeat stutters, weakening.

“Oh, dear brother!” Hela’s voice calls. “Come out, come out!” Thor cannot tear his eyes away from the way she grips Loki, the jet black blade held to his throat. “If you want to collect the creature you call your brother, come out, come out!” The blood seems to pour from Fandral’s wounds, soaking the soil. Thor can feel the dull ache of his own wounds. “Hm. Well. Should you change your mind, we’ll be waiting for you in the throne room. Won’t we, little monster?” Loki says nothing in response, turning his face away from hers. She stows the blade and with her green-black magic taps his temple. He collapses in her arms and she heaves him over her shoulders.

Thor has to watch as she carries his little brother farther and farther away from him, back towards the pond where this battle had started. But Fandral still bleeds beneath him, dying, and he has no choice. He stays crouched and silent, putting pressure on the wound until the sound of Hela’s footsteps fades. Then he ignores the pain in his side, hefts Fandral up, and retreats.

Fandral is wheezing, only half conscious, when Thor finally finds the pathway in the hills he had indicated. An Einherjar and a very familiar warrior rushes forward.

“Thor!” Sif cries. “What _happened?_”

“He was wounded in the fight against Hela.” He hands off his burden to the Einherjar who rush him into the cavern. “Where is Heimdall?”

Heimdall is both much changed and comfortingly familiar. His hair has grown long, he is dressed in a rough cloak and sturdy clothes. The bifrost sword sits at his side. “Tell me what happened,” He says, voice low.

Heimdall listens patiently to Thor’s story. He doesn’t even blink at the revelation that Loki survived Svartalfheim, though Sif and Hogun are shocked.

“Loki’s _alive?”_

Thor nods, setting his mouth into a grim line. “Though he is in danger. Hela holds him prisoner.”

“Are you sure about that?” Sif asks. “What if he’s working for her?” Thor shakes his head, but before he can answer, Heimdall speaks for him.

“Loki often has his own agenda and his own designs for Asgard. But I do not believe he would ally himself with Hela.”

“He fears her,” Thor confirms. “I do not believe he would betray me again. At least not against her. He saved my life twice, it is I who failed. Again.” Sif still looks uncertain, but says nothing more.

“What do you want to do, my king?” Heimdall asks.

Thor stops. “What did you say?”

“You are the king of Asgard now, your majesty,” Heimdall says slowly. “How would you like us to support your rule?”

It should have occurred to him before now. It was so obvious. But in the commotion, Thor had not had the time to process the news. His father was dead. He was king of Asgard.

Speechless, Thor turns to look out at the room full of refugees. The cavern is crowded with the first refugees from Hela’s rule, mostly soldiers and civilians from the outlying villages. His subjects. He does not know what to say.

Hela carries Loki’s limp body towards the hidden door in the vault. He will not stir for some time, but she doesn’t have the patience to take him to the prisons. She wants her treasure now, the one she'd spent the better part of the afternoon searching for.

So she takes him with her, carrying him to the hidden door she’d found in the rock, down the tight passageway. The tunnel opens out into a cavern. The staircase and the door she’d failed to break into lie high above her head. Odin had done a thorough job blocking her from various rooms in the palace, she’d found. Magical security measures that required one of the royal family to open them. Which she apparently no longer counted as.

Here, in the deepest reaches of the vaults, likes the crypt. In the center, there is a rune circle, where a bright green flame burns in a basin. The eternal flame. Hela lays the unconscious Loki down on the floor and goes to the flame. With a spark of it burning in her hand, she walks in a circle around the crypt. All her old weapons, her black magic books.

And the skeletons, still dressed in their black and flaking armor. The hulking body in the center, still as death.

Hela smiles.


	2. chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has been captured by Hela. Thor is king of a scattered and frightened people. 
> 
> Things are not going well.

Loki slowly returns to consciousness, lying on a hard surface. His limbs feel cold and stiff but warmth and feeling gradually return to them. His head is bent at an odd angle, making his neck ache. Cold metal wraps tight around his wrists and his throat. He opens his eyes to the familiar columns and towering ceilings of the throne room. His wrists are bound together and heavy metal collar encircles his throat, with a thick chain leading to the side of the throne.

“So you’re finally awake.” He slowly sits up. Hela is lounging in the throne, watching him. “I thought I overdid it this time. There is so much death in you. It would be too easy to tip you over the edge, little monster.”

“I do wish you would stop calling me that,” He says. His mouth is dry and coated in film. He scrubs the back of his hand across cracked lips.

“Skurge!” She waves a hand. “Fetch some water for our little pet monster.”

“Right away, m’lady.”

“He has been perfectly useful as my executioner,” She remarks. “You did well in choosing him, I’ll give you that. I’m not a fan of the aesthetic changes, though most of that does seem to be Father’s horrendous tastes. All this gold, wasted on decorations.” She shakes her head, tittering. Loki looks around the hall, at the chaotic destruction. Murals, mosaics, torn apart. Plaster and broken stone covers the floor. The walls and ceiling have been peeled back to reveal older paintings, covered by the familiar ones. Odin…and Hela. Atop a great gray wolf, bearing a sword, surrounded by foot soldiers in black armor, and women riding winged horses, dressed in silver and blue. The Valkyries.

“Fascinating." Loki shifts into a more comfortable position. "I never realized there was anything beneath the surface.”

“Father really did a thorough job, forgetting the past. Forgetting his true glory. We were conquerers. We bent the Nine Realms to our will…and then he just _stops_. Makes _me_ feel like the one who is wrong when it is him and his peace that is poisoned.”

“I cannot argue with you there, sister-” Before he can finish the sentence she slaps him across the face, leaving him sputtering in surprise at the sudden blow.

“I am not your sister.” Loki presses a hand to his stinging cheek. “Remember, monster?”

“Apologies. Your _majesty_. I was merely agreeing that Odin enjoyed placing the blame for his own mistakes on others.” He shifts to a more comfortable position. At least, as comfortable as possible on the cold stone. The chains clink together. “So I am meant to lure Thor back to your clutches?”

“Obviously, since he for some reason seems to care for your wellbeing. Norns, I knew Odin was losing it when he took you from that frozen rock, but to pretend like you could be one of the Aesir, one of his own children, for centuries? The old man really had gone mad.”

Loki goes still. “You were there?”

“Of course I was there, I wasn’t going to miss the final destruction of Jotunheim, was I? It wasn’t nearly as bloody as I was hoping it would be. Disappointing. Then I thought perhaps I’d at least get to dash an infant Jotun’s brains out on the rocks, but then Father just…says no. I thought for a moment he was merely fascinated by the shapeshifting, wanted to study the magic of it, since natural shapeshifting is rare on Asgard, but by the time we returned home, it was clear he was truly enraptured. Lunacy.” Loki feels like he is going to be sick. His heart pounds in his chest. He remembers the sick horror he’d felt as he watched his own arm turn blue underneath the giant’s rough hand and heard Thor’s voice in his head, swearing to kill all the monsters.

The fear leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. “Why not just kill me now then? Get it over with, I’m sure Thor will find his way here even without me as hostage. You said it yourself, I’m practically on the edge of the abyss anyway.”

“Oh, I wish I could. It would make things so much easier. But I need Thor, and that fool Heimdall, _alive_. Bastard stole the bifrost sword and my foolish father seems to have put some security measures in place against me.”

Skurge returns with a jug of water and will not look at Loki when he hands it over.

“Traitor.” Loki says under his breath. Skurge just scurries away from Loki’s accusation.

“Don’t blame him, little monster. He’s just doing what’s _right_. You’ll see in time. You’ll understand - I’m what’s right. Asgard was wrong.”

Loki just quietly sips at the water, testing the bonds on his magic and casting a sharp eye across the hall. Hela settles in her throne. He thinks about asking for a chair, even a blanket to cushion from the cold marble of the hall floor, but glances up at her and thinks better of it. She thinks him lower than an _animal_, a monster, and he knows it will be useless to ask.

\- - - - - - -

The caverns in the mountains are bustling with hurried activity. Soldiers distribute rations and blankets, as families cluster together, readying for the night in the caves.

Thor looks out at all of them, frowning. Fandral is slowly healing, under Sif’s watchful eye. Hogun went out with a few soldiers to guard the paths to the cavern entrance. Thor had offered to accompany them, in an effort to be helpful, but they had roundly refused, on the basis that he could not put himself at further risk. It was too dangerous - and Hela had already proven herself more than capable of subduing him.

Just as she had taken Loki. Thor feels sick at the thought of how badly he has failed, once again.

“Is everything all right, your majesty?” Heimdall asks from behind him.

“Yes. Fine.”

Heimdall comes to stand next to him, looking out at the people. “You are thinking of your brother.” Thor’s silence is enough of an answer. “He is well. Uninjured.”

“She did something to him, some dark magic.”

“It does not seem to have left any damage,” Heimdall tries to reassure.

“But who knows what she will do to him if she…” He mutters to himself. “Just when I got him back, I _fail_, and let him fall _again_.”

“It is not your fault-”

“Perhaps not entirely, this time. But still…Do you know…” Thor frowns, brow furrowing. “Do you know how he survived the Kursed’s blow?”

“I do not,” Heimdall responds quietly. “I thought he was dead. Loki has long been talented at hiding himself from me, but during his period of confinement in the prisons, and when you were on Svartalfheim, his spells had failed. I saw your escape, and his sacrifice, but not his rising.”

“He claimed it was not an illusion. He accused me of abandoning him to die on that planet. And I do not believe he was lying when he said he thought I left him for dead but…”

“Nor do I. I would have, once, but in this, I agree with you. I believe you _thought_ him to be dead - but that he had somehow survived the wound and the poison.” Heimdall rubs his beard, grown so long during his period of banishment. “It is that perhaps that which allows her to have the hold over him you describe. Hela’s power comes from death, first the deaths she claimed at Odin’s side, then the magic she gathered during her imprisonment in Hel. If Loki had indeed been on the edge of death, it could have contaminated him, given her the power to manipulate his body as you described.”

“Norns,” Thor curses. He scrubs a hand over his face. “We have to get him out.”

“We must defeat her,” Heimdall agrees. “But for now, your majesty, it is time to rest. It is late, and we can start in the morning.”

\- - - - - - -

Hela leaves him chained to the throne overnight. The temperature drops in the hall so he spends a shivery, sleepless night huddled into himself. Hela returns in the morning with bread and water, tossing them at him.

She gives him a withering look as she sees his shivering. “Some frost giant you are, if you cannot bear a single night in a cold hall. Their halls are frozen, don’t you know, little monster? Made of towering ice.”

“Oh, I know.” He makes an effort to stop shivering. “But I am not a proper frost giant, am I? I was a runt, a cursed shapeshifter, laid out in the wilds to die in the cold.”

“True enough. You would have succumbed not long after we found you, if Odin had not been so foolish. Honestly, I’m surprised you survived so long on Asgard, though perhaps your weakness matched its own…”

Loki ignores her as she continues to rail against the changes in Asgard after her banishment. He thinks to himself that this was going to get rather old, rather quickly. It would be absurd to think of being _bored_ while being held hostage by a deranged goddess of death, but, well, here he is. At least he is not…

He breaks himself away from that train of thought. This is vastly superior, so far, to the last time he was an unintentional ‘guest’ of someone obsessed with death. This would get boring, yes, and cold, but she does not seem inclined towards torture and there must be some way to weasel his way out of these chains.

He doesn’t notice when she trails off until his musings are interrupted by the sudden feeling of breath on his neck. He jumps; Hela managed to sneak up on him. “I want to see your true form,” Hela says, her face an inch from his.

His stomach drops. “No.”

“Come, I wish to see what you look like.”

“No.”

She grips his shoulders. Her nails dig into his flesh. “Do it.”

“No.” He is beginning to grow afraid again, his heartbeat speeding up, in anticipation of the horrid feeling of her dragging him into death.

“Has Thor seen it?” She grins when he does not answer her question. “He has not. Who has?”

“Odin. Heimdall. That’s it.”

“Not even your precious mother?” He shakes his head. “Surprising.” She sits back, releasing him. “Tell me what you were told. About being a Jotun.”

He does not want to tell her, has told no one of the sequence of events leading up to his fall, but he vastly prefers telling her to having her force him to change his form. So he spends the better part of the afternoon telling her the sordid tale in its entirety. He leaves out some of the details, including the use of the bifrost for planetary destruction, since he’d prefer not to give her any ideas, but otherwise tells the truth. He spins the tale skillfully and by the end she is laughing.

“So you killed Thor?”

“Temporarily,” He says.

“Well, at least I know the two of you are not entirely boring. I would have been so, so disappointed if you’d turned out to be perfect like peace-loving angels. I would have loved to see the look on Father’s face when he realized you were just like me.”

Odin’s expression, grave, distant. Shaking his head while the abyss pulled Loki away. “He was not pleased. Better though was the look on his face when he sentenced me to an eternity in the cells.”

“On this realm? How generous of him.” She reaches out and touches his hair with a startlingly gentle hand. “You can see now, Odin’s faults?”

“Oh, I’ve long recognized Father’s failings.”

“He was an old fool who loved peace so much. Grew weak from it.”

Loki remembers when Thor came to fetch him from his cell. Much of that day is clouded in a haze of grief and pain, but he remembers Thor telling him that Odin intended to go to war, no matter what the cost. That he had nearly lost his mind, would have sent their armies to their destruction, heedless of the toll in Asgardian lives. That Thor and Loki needed to take their own revenge, without courting the deaths of countless Asgardian soldiers.

He thinks that perhaps it was not Odin who loved peace.

“You could support me, you know,” Hela says, voice low. “If you submit to my rule-”

“You’ll let me out of these chains?”

Hela just smiles patronizingly. “Admit that the throne is mine, little monster, then perhaps.” 

“I’d rather the throne for myself,” He says with a vicious smile that feels empty. Hela laughs. She grabs him, dragging him up so they are face to face.

“You’re not for the throne. You’ll have to choose - stake your chances with the rightful ruler of Asgard. And wouldn’t you prefer that to be me? Thor is too noble, too good. He won’t give you the power you crave.”

She’s right. Thor will indeed be insufferably noble on the throne, insufferably golden and righteous. Blunt, with no skill for political machinations, which could make his rule dangerous, as Loki believed when he ruined his coronation. And she is right - there is a dark need for power within him, that would have once driven him to scheme, to seek a way to play his older siblings off each other so that he came out on top, so that he was the one sitting on the throne, the one they all bowed to-

The thought just makes him feel tired now. Exhausted, really. He has fought against the tides for so long, he just wants to give in and sink. The thought of his own desire for the throne makes him feel vaguely sick now.

He goes limp in her hands and she drops him back to the floor.

“Hm,” She says, backing away. “I should have known. The death in you is your own making. You’re too weak for the game now.” He bites his lip and does not look at her.

Hela loses interest in him after the revelation of his suicide attempt. She leaves him for a few hours, goes off to do who knows what. He does not weep but can feel the edge of tears building inside him. Frustrated tears, tears of loss and rage and humiliation. He wishes Thor had never returned to Asgard, and that he was here now. Wishes Odin had died years ago, and not at all. Wishes he had been left on that frozen rock, died as an infant. That he was still ruling Asgard under Odin’s illusion. That none of this had happened, and he was still living in blissful ignorance, an arrogant prince with absolute faith in his power.

\- - - - - - - 

The next several days pass in a growing haze of boredom, for both of them. Hela wishes that foolish blond brother of hers would just make a _move_. But he doesn’t, remaining ensconced wherever Heimdall’s managed to squirrel away those who fled her rule. Loki, the little monster, remains in a sulking mood for the first couple of days, then returns to occasionally prodding her for information, simultaneously trying to get on her good side and reasserting his rejection of her rule. She answers his questions when he asks them, telling him at length of the glory of the old Asgard.

She even speaks of Hel for a while, just to watch his face pale. “That’s where you’ll end up,” She whispers to him and smiles in amusement at his wince.

Four days after she brought her captive back to the palace, Hela storms into the hall, clothes splattered with blood from torturing a captive Einherjar in the prisons. Her little pet monster, chained to her side, does not even comment on the blood anymore. He had tried to question her once, on the second day, alarmed at her sudden blood-soaked appearance and she had beaten him for it. He evidently learned his lesson.

They sit in silence while Hela seethes at her inability to find Thor and the foolish loyalty of the captured Einherjar being tortured to death. He hadn’t given up even a whisper of their stronghold. Odin had them well trained, she had to admit.

The chains clink together as Loki shifts on the floor next to her throne. Hela knows that shifting. It means the little monster wants to _talk_.

She sighs. “Fine, what is it this time?”

“May I ask about your mother?”

“Frigga was not my mother.”

“Oh, I know that.” Hela rounds on him.

“How?”

“I just…I just knew. Mother - _Frigga_ \- taught me her magic, so even if I don’t share her blood, I can still tell. Who was your mother? We never knew that Father had-”

“Odin’s first wife, a highborn Asgardian noblewoman. Pure blooded, unlike that Vanir bitch he married later.” Loki stiffens, insulted. The prince is still prideful, despite being leashed to her throne like a dog.

“What was she like?” He asks, voice sharp. “Your mother?”

“I don’t know, she died when I was born.”

“Oh. So…”

“It was just Father and I, for centuries. The two of us, powerful, ruthless, unstoppable. Until he grew _weak_. Decided to stop at Nine, cast me off.” She sighs. Even she’s tiring of her own lectures.

“It must have been challenging, growing up with just Odin.” Bitterness in his voice, contrasting with hers.

Hela scowls. “I was Father’s everything. I had no need of a mother.” Loki has the audacity to look like he pities her. Her fury only increases.

“Still, Odin could be…distant.”

“I didn’t need _nurturing_,” She snarls. “Only weak, _sniveling_ infants like you and your brother, going running back to mummy at the slightest bit of strife. Frigga was nothing to me. A foolish, Vanir witch who thought she could be queen. _I_ was the queen. I _am_ the queen, little monster. Never forget that.” That silences him. He shifts again in his chains, clearly uncomfortable. He shivers. “Cold, little monster?”

“Well, you have left me lying here on the marble for days,” He snaps back.

Hela just rises from her throne. She’s suddenly full of annoyed, frenetic energy and cannot bear the thought of sitting there waiting for another moment. She stalks off, leaving her prisoner alone. At the last moment she turns, and tugs just a little bit on the threads of death wound around the little monster’s core. It’s not enough to really hurt him, just enough to make him uncomfortable.

It helps cool her annoyance a little.

She is forced to return a few hours later, taking up her seat on the throne. Loki looks grey. His breath comes shallow and wheezing. His hand is pressed over his heart, gaze pained and clouded, but he recovers quickly when she eases the magic.

She is still filled with impatient annoyance and would have stayed away longer, but she’s been called back to receive an emissary.

The Lady Sif stands tall and proud at the center of the hall, drawing herself up as tall as she can. She announced herself as an ambassador, a neutral bargaining party, which Hela accepted. It is a risk, Hela may not follow the protocols of a just war, but it was a risk Sif undertakes for her king and realm.

She spares a glance at Loki, shackled to the throne. He watches her with sharp eyes, quietly sitting in his chains.

Hela sits on the throne, smiling in amusement down at her.

“Welcome, my lady,” Hela says. “You come as an emissary from my brother?”

“I come to bring a message and an offer of negotiation.”

Hela laughs. “So? Go on.”

“Thor reasserts his claim to the throne. He is willing to allow you to live, to work out some kind of arrangement for you that will not bring this to war-”

Hela laughs again. “He fears another fight with me.”

“Asgard will resist. They will not give in. This is an opportunity to-”

Hela rises. She grips the chain attached to Loki’s collar and drags him forward, down the stairs.

“Asgard will resist, to a point, I’m sure. But you saw my army when you entered. You see my power here.” Loki stumbles after her, looking more than a little bit frightened. That scares Sif, more than the armies of dead soldiers at the gates of the city, more than Hela’s power. That Loki - who has always been cold and unshakeable, even in the face of great danger - is so openly frightened, means that this Hela is no small threat. “And do remind my dear brother, that if he wants his pet shapeshifter,” She yanks on Loki’s chains, jerking him forward. “-to be returned to him _alive_ and in one piece, he will surrender. He will kneel to me, submit to my rule, surrender himself here, and both of the princes will be spared.”

Sif keeps her composure. “So the prince is being held as a hostage. As a prisoner of war, he is entitled to certain protections and the King will want assurance that-”

Hela laughs again. “Prisoner of war. Ha. Asgard really has gone soft. The little creature is _my_ prize and I chose what to do with him.” Hela yanks Loki to her, touching his head. His breath is coming short and there’s a tremor to his hands. He shakes his head at her, warning. Sif knows now that Thor was not lying when he said that Loki feared Hela.

“Does Thor know what I can do to the little monster? Yes, he is a monster. A filthy Jotun shapeshifter, who skates too close to death but doesn’t have the decency to stay that way.” Hela touches his neck. In a moment the color drains from his face, he clutches at his chest, choking on nothing. His lips are tinged blue; the big veins in his neck bulge and darken.

Hela lets go and he drops heavily to his knees, gasping. His hand is still clutched over his heart. Sif’s own heart pounds in sympathy. 

Hela drops her hand to the back of Loki’s head, stroking his black hair as his chest heaves. “Pass this along to Thor. Tell him he will kneel to me, or I will make sure to return this creature to the realms of the dead. Permanently this time.” Loki glances up at Sif once, warning in his eyes, before drops his head, obscuring his face. Sif spares him a last glance before fleeing the hall, escorted by the eerie undead guards.

Sif returns to their sanctuary, where the others are waiting for her report. She knows she must look haunted. Her first words are to reassure, to wipe the terrified expressions off her friends’ faces.

“He’s alive? He’s safe?” Thor’s voice is so full of tenuous hope.

“He’s alive. Safe…well, I don’t think _anyone_ is safe under Hela’s rule.”

Thor levels her with a grave look. “Tell me.”

“He looked uninjured. She has him chained to the side of her throne, but he remains unhurt.”

Thor nods. “Good.”

“She said his life is collateral for your surrender.”

“Did she give a deadline?”

“No. But she was particularly graphic about her methods of potential execution. She has this hold over him…like she can drag him into death with just a touch.” Thor scrubs a hand over his mouth and turns away from her, pacing. “Thor, you cannot be thinking of giving in to her.”

“You’ve seen for yourself, the danger he’s in-”

“I know, but Asgard needs-”

“I understand. I understand what Asgard needs.” He glances out at the assembled masses of refugees. “I am not planning on kneeling to her as queen. But I cannot just leave my brother to her mercy.”

“I am in agreement. Leaving Loki to die at her side is needlessly cruel,” Fandral says from his bed. Speaking still leaves him winded. “He gave himself up to save us. I cannot justify leaving him there - I’d never be able to live with myself.”

Heimdall just nods. Sif thinks about his hand on his chest, the way he had grasped at his heart. “Okay. You’re right.”

“What we need,” Hogun says quietly. “Is a plan.”

\- - - - - - -

In the quiet following Sif’s departure, Hela’s annoyance turns to rage. She is furious - at the little lady playing at being an ambassador, at the absent Thor for his gall to send an emissary in place of coming himself, at the little monster chained to her side. Not even tormenting him in front of Thor’s emissary had soothed her growing annoyance at the _thing_.

Prodding, nosy, _poisonous_ little Jotun. Presumptuous little parasite. He has been getting far too familiar, sitting on her shoulder, trying to win her over like he is worthy of it. Asking _questions_ about things that are none of his business. He is _her_ prisoner. She will do with him what she likes.

She attacks without warning, taking up his chains and dragging him down the stairs, throwing him down. She straddles him, pinning his arms to his sides with her knees. She loops the chain attached to his collar around his neck and bears down as he looks up at her with wide, horrified eyes.

“Hela-” He croaks before the pressure on his windpipe becomes too much for him to speak.

“I could gag you, use the spell to twist your heart, but where’s the fun in that? You want to talk about _mothers_, do you, monster? I suppose it’s only fair. You told me your whole sordid history attempting to conquer Asgard, I shall tell you mine.” He spasms beneath her, chest heaving for air. “I want you to be _quiet_, while I tell you a story about your so-called mother. And what I did to her.” She settles back on her heels, keeping her grip on the chain tight. “So, there I was. My father’s firstborn, his executioner. For centuries, it was just the two of us. That was all we needed. I was his sword, his constant companion as we brought the Nine Realms to heel.” Loki bucks, straining for air like a fish out of water. “And then he _stops_. He marries the Vanir whore. He becomes a benevolent ruler. Doting husband. And she gets pregnant. Knocked up. She has a bouncing blond baby boy. You won’t believe me, but I didn’t hate him at first. No, I thought he was rather cute. Useless, but kind of cute. But then everything changed. Or perhaps, I finally noticed how things had changed.

“It became clear to me that I was going to be passed over. That _Thor_ was suddenly next in line for the throne. You know how that feels, don’t you little brother.” There’s a bubble of spittle, pink and frothy, forming at the corner of his mouth. “Odin tried to deny it, but I saw the truth. I became resolved to challenge my father, resolved to take the throne myself. But I waited. I plotted and waited. And then,” She smiles at him. “That bitch got pregnant again.” Loki gurgles, twitching. “Didn’t know about that, did you? Thor knows. Yes, your brother knows. Didn’t he _say_ anything? You know when I was still imprisoned, I could watch the family, if I _really_ concentrated. It was hard, but sometimes when Odin was distracted enough, I could glimpse through. I suppose it was after you fell into the Void, I didn’t understand the context then. When they told him what you were, I watched him as he collapsed in the hall and wept. When his tears slowed, he started talking to himself." She deepens her voice to mock Thor. "_But I remember, she was pregnant, how could I remember that if…if…_I knew _exactly_ what he was talking about. He hasn’t mentioned it since, has he? Because he knows what that means, and it horrifies him so much he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, or you.

“You know it too, dear one, don’t you? You know what that means? There was another. There was Thor’s true sibling. And you stole his place, changeling.” She releases the tension on the chain and he gasps in air, wheezing through his damaged throat. He fights to curl in on himself, coughing, but her weight is immovable. Hela bears down again. “Yes, little one, there was another. I watched as Frigga’s belly swelled. I watched as she lay on the sofa, toddler Thor pressing his ear to the bump, smiling and getting all excited when the baby kicked. I watched Odin take in his new family, leaving me in the dust,” She snarls and tightens the chain. “She was oh, eight months along? Enough to name the baby growing inside her. Enough to love it. And then I went down, beneath the vaults. I sacrificed a _score_ of lambs, bathed in their blood. I used dark and ancient magic to murder the baby before he even drew breath. And I made sure that her womb would never quicken again.”

Loki can only jerk with weak, involuntary spasms beneath her. His hands raise, shove at her, but she ignores him. His lips twitch, making the rough shape of the word _please_ but with no air, he cannot speak. His chest arches up, straining for breath.

“I returned to the palace to watch. She was _screaming_, lying in a pool of blood on the bed. Eir held her to life with her healing magic as the baby was torn from her womb. The thing was black with decomposition. She took one look at it, the rotting, mangled corpse that had soured inside her, then her gaze traveled to me, and then I knew that she recognized the dark magic. She knew it had been me behind it. Which was exactly what I wanted. I wanted her to know that I would do whatever it took to keep her beneath me. That she was powerless before me.

“She retreated for a while, with Thor. She didn’t see or speak to anyone but her son. And then foolish Odin returned from a frozen wasteland with a shapeshifter baby and just hands you over to her. Life returned to her eyes and milk to her breast, and I knew my time was up. If I didn’t win against Odin then, the witch was going to be dangerous again. She got that look in her eye, that wild maternal rage. She had been afraid before, cowering from me with her son, but her sanity, her magic was returning.” Loki’s grip slackens. His gaze is clouded. “She might have been able to stop me. Motherly rage and protectiveness would have been powerful augmentations to her power. I had to act before she became too strong. I have you to thank, I suppose, for buying me a little bit more time. Caring for a newborn, especially one so weak and sick as you, runt, kept her busy and I had time to plan. So…you know the rest. The Valkyries, the shadow realm, etc, etc…”

She releases her grip on the chain, loosens it from his neck. He coughs and coughs, chest heaving for air. Tears drip down his cheeks as he turns his face away from her.

“You don’t have to cry anymore,” Hela says. “It’s over. You can breathe now. No more tears.” He heaves air into his lungs and _sobs_. His hands come up to defend himself, twitch uselessly. “Your mother never had another child. So she was stuck with you, little changeling. A monster in the crib that was built for her own child.” Hela grips his chin and forces his gaze back to her.

“Please,” He rasps. “Please, don’t-”

“Isn’t this what you wanted? You wanted to ask questions. You wanted to know. Aren’t you satisfied?” He sobs, coughs. She brushes back his hair. “It’s okay, you don’t have to worry about _questions_ anymore. Skurge!” She calls.

Skurge shuffles awkwardly into the hall. He had clearly been hovering in the doorway, pretending not to listen.“You rang, majesty?”

“Bring me a cage,” She says, stroking Loki’s dark hair. “A birdcage.”

Loki shakes his head. “Don’t-” He rasps. Starts coughing again.

“Shhh. No more questions, no more talking. Just a little bird.” Skurge returns with the requested cage. It’s simple, and small, with only a perch. She takes off the chains that bind his power. “Change. Do it.”

Loki coughs. “Please-”

“Change.” She shakes him. Slaps him across the face. _“Change!”_ He shudders and with an anguished cry his form shifts and he becomes a little starling in her hands, dark blue features studded with flecks of light gray. She grips him tight, holding his wings firm to his body as she places him in the cage and locks it. “Now we will finally have some damned _quiet_.” She carries the birdcage back to the throne, places it on a small table beside the seat. The starling titters unhappily.

“If you had not wanted to be locked in a cage,” She tells the bird, “you should not have pressed me.” Her rage has drained now. She still near pants with exertion but in the wake of her fury, a calm peace settles over her.

\- - - - - - -

At sunset, a week and a half since his return to Asgard, Thor straps a sword to his back and stands ready at the front of his meager army.

“Remember, you must avoid capture at all costs,” Heimdall says gravely. “If this does not work, retreat immediately.”

“Of course,” Thor grins. “But it _will_ work.”

“Seconded,” Sif twirls her sword. “It will. It must.”

The attack is trifold, and simultaneous. Their force is divided into thirds - a third go with Heimdall to the bifrost bridge, a third lead by Sif and Hogun detonate explosives at a tower on the outskirts of town and immediately engage with Hela’s dead soldiers, and the final third remains in the mountains, standing guard over the civilians and those that were already wounded.

Thor sets off alone.

He departs with Sif and Hogun, making sure he is visible, prominent at the front of the column when the fight starts. He slays two of the undead soldiers, not pausing so see if they get back up. When the fight is roaring around him - metal clashing, warriors howling, the scent of blood and sweat thick in the air - he slips away, covering his armor and his vivid red cape with a gray cloak.

He sheathes his sword and slips through the streets of the capital, keeping to the shadows. As he moves, the sounds of the battle recede, only to pick up again as he comes across the second fight, Heimdall’s forces this time. He still cannot see Hela, but can only hope she has been lured from her stronghold by the promise of facing either himself or Heimdall.

The throne room is silent and echoing. Their misdirection seems to have been successful enough to draw away Hela’s undead guards, and the queen herself, though Thor still moves cautiously through the hall. He steps around piles of rubble, broken stone and fresco, one disconcertedly bearing his own face. He glances upwards to see the old paintings, the scarlet mosaics of Odin and Hela. There’s a nervous fluttering in his stomach, but he doesn’t have time for that. He must find Loki and get them out of here.

He creeps up to the throne where Sif reported seeing Loki chained, but there is no sign of him. Instead, there is a golden cage and a little starling, nose buried in his wing. Thor’s heart sinks.

“Oh, Loki,” He says quietly. The bird wakes, cheeping in surprise, or perhaps annoyance when its eyes alight on Thor. “Shhh! Loki, hush, I’m getting you out of here.” Thor reaches for the door of the cage, wincing at the magical shock that stings his fingertips. Loki only titters louder, flapping his wings. “Stop it! You have to be quiet. I’ll get you out of the cage as soon as we get back to Heimdall, I swear, brother.” Thor picks up the cage by the handle, relieved when it does not sting him. He turns to flee and stops short at the bottom of the stairs as a great black wolf stalks into the hall.

“Oh, brother, how predictable of you.” Hela follows the wolf in. “I knew you would come for the little monster. The diversion was a nice touch. It almost worked. Targeting the bifrost bridge was a good idea - you _would_ need to control the portal. Too bad I saw through it. And neither of you will be walking out of this palace. Or flying.” Loki flutters inside the cage in a blind, cheeping panic. Thor has to set the cage down to draw the borrowed sword at his back.

“You will let us go.”

“Not a chance, brother.” Thor strikes but Hela easily blocks him with her obsidian blades. “You’ve faced me twice before and been defeated. Third time’s the charm?” Thor retreats, parries her strike, then strikes again. Loki’s shrieking call warns him of the approaching wolf and he barely dives out of the way in time. “Have you been properly introduced? This is Fenrir, my _darling_. He’s been locked in the crypt this whole time, the poor thing.”

“This _thing_ has been in the palace this whole time?” Thor is out of breath but scoffs at her. “Norns.”

Hela snarls, “Now don’t be rude.”

Their fight continues. Thor having to deflect both Hela and her wolf, with no lightning, no hammer and having to keep Loki’s cage in his periphery to defend his brother as well. Loki remains in a cheeping panic, and Thor can almost hear his furious lecture through the sounds of their blows and his own heartbeat in his ears. Fenrir nearly swipes the cage with his massive paw, and Thor has to dance out of the way, landing one blow to the creature as he pushes the cage out of reach. Then Hela is on him again.

The fight drags. His shoulder is pierced through. Hela’s armor is further torn. She is panting, but still looking furious at him, and her energy has not waned since they began.

“I had a long time to wait for this,” She says as she stalks towards him. “In that dark place where Father locked me. It was gray and barren, but there was a certain kind of power there. And longing - hurt - _despair_ \- carries its own magic. You cannot defeat me. Not after all this time.”

Thor feels bruised all over as their duel recommences. His own veins feel empty of their usual spark.

He falls back again, drops to one knee, trying to catch his breath. Hela lowers her sword.

“Your forces are retreating,” She remarks. He can hear the echoing of the horn, the signal to retreat. He should have been well away by then, spirited down the passages under the palace. Even if he manages to escape her clutches now, he will have no backup to cover their retreat. Loki squeaks in the cage, where he’s pushed it behind him. “Come now, brother. It’s time to surrender.”

“I will _never_ accept your rule. Asgard will-”

Hela sighs. “I think you will, one day. You will come to see that I’m right. But for now, fine. _Fine!”_ She waves a hand at him. “As long as you surrender, I will not force you to kneel to me as your queen. I will indulge you this one bit of rebellion. As long as you come _quietly_ now.”

Thor thinks on his predicament for a moment, then shuts his eyes and with a pulse of guilt and shame, drops his sword to the floor. It clatters against the marble. The sound echoes across the chamber. Fenrir huffs and lies down.

“Good.” Hela comes to stand in front of him. “Good choice, little brother. I really didn’t want to kill you. Not yet anyway.” She reaches behind him to pick up the cage. Thor lunges for it, catching himself at the last moment. “Oh, you want the little monster? Your pet shapeshifter?” For a moment it looks like she’s going to hold the cage away from him, in an absurd game of keep-away. He has a brief flash of childhood memory, holding some trinket over Loki’s head as he jumped for it. _Give it back, Thor!_ Loki’s green eyes, burning with angry tears. Thor holds himself very still.

After a moment, Hela holds out the cage. Thor rises to accept it. “I’ll even let him out, once you’re in your cell.” She nudges him with her boot. “Go on. You know the way.”

Hela herds them towards the prisons, Thor carrying Loki’s cage. They pass the communal cells, half full of jeering, common prisoners and half full of Einherjar who gravely watch them pass. “Deeper,” Hela pushes him. She leads them down to the deepest levels, past even where Loki had been originally imprisoned. At the bottom are a row of empty cells, darker than the ones upstairs, smaller. At the end, there is one with an open door, like it was waiting for them. It features only one feather-stuffed mattress set on a rough-hewn bed frame, a basin, and a small table set beneath the single barred window where moonlight shows through. Thor hesitates, but Hela is at his back, crowding him in.

“It is perhaps small, but it’s…cozy, is it not?” She stands at the doorway. “I will come check on you from time to time. The little monster can tell you, I will have some questions. And Father seemed to set up some barriers against me I’ll need you to break. And perhaps you’ll come around.” She touches his cheek. Her hand is like ice against his skin, colder even than Loki’s. Thor slaps it away. She laughs. “Goodnight, brothers,” Hela coos. “Sleep well.”

“The cage. You-”

“Of _course_. Fine.” She steps back through the barrier and scratches a symbol with her thumbnail over the bars then opens the door of the birdcage. Loki stays on his perch, flinching away from her. Hela smirks at that. She straightens up and leaves the cell, slamming the iron door behind her. It clangs into the frame with a note of finality. The shields come up, shimmering over the bars. “Goodnight, dears. Sleep well.” Then she vanishes back into the darkness of the hall.

They are left alone, with only the faint light of a warm globe to illuminate their cell. The hall beyond their cell is eerily pitch black. Loki still has not emerged from the birdcage. He remains in the shape of a starling.

“She is gone, brother.” Thor crouches before the cage. “We’re alone. You can change back.” The starling cheeps. Thor waits patiently with a hand outstretched. Gradually, Loki emerges, resting on Thor’s arm. Thor brings him closer to his chest. When Loki doesn’t fly off, he softly pets back the smooth feathers on his back. “It’s okay, now. I have you.” He just keeps stroking his feathers, trying to calm him.

Finally, Loki flaps his wings once and transforms back into a man.

“Thor,” He gasps. “What have you done?” His eyes are wild and fearful - and furious. He strikes out hard at Thor’s chest, driving the air from his lungs. Thor gasps and catches him as he pounds again on his chest. “You _fool_, what have you _done?”_

“I’m sorry. I had to come for you, you know that-”

“And now we’re both trapped here,” Loki grits his teeth. “At her mercy.” Loki is trembling. Between his reluctance to shift back and how shaken he seems now, something must have happened between Hela and him in the interim. Thor tugs him into his arms, holding him against his chest.

“I am sorry. I’m sorry I have failed again.” Loki seems to surrender his anger, sinking into the embrace, if a little bitterly. His head goes limp on Thor’s shoulder.

Thor rests his chin on his brother’s bowed head and traces a circle with his thumb over Loki’s shoulder. He can say nothing to alleviate his brother’s fears, or his own.

The dead reign in Asgard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! And again thanks to @reywrite for the absolutely beautiful art and @loxxlay for beta reading!
> 
> This is the first part in a planning trilogy, the second of which should be ready fairly soon! For writing progress, updates, and other shenanigans, find me on tumblr [@bereft-of-frogs](https://bereft-of-frogs.tumblr.com/) and twitter [@bereft_of_frogs](https://twitter.com/bereft_of_frogs).
> 
> Comments/Kudos/Shares/Frogs always appreciated! <3


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